Revolution? Poem by Kris Atta Pappoe

. REVOLUTION
(For Kosi Ameyibor & Lee Dargbey)

I do not preach Revolution.
Yes live seen enough of it.
I do not preach Revolution,
Though the words taste so sweet on the tongue.
Sweet on the tongue, especially the tongues
Of the unknowing.

My brother, I do not preach Revolution.
Time was when I climbed
Hurried rostra and rained thunder words
On gullible ears below,
Then I smiled in triumph when
On fire with vengeance,
They marched/trotted off to do their will.
But my brothers, I do not preach
Those sermons this time.
Too many seasons and too many places.

My eyes have seen the fruits
Which our voices sowed
But which our minds disowned
Of the evil fire that we spawned
With our urgings and too many times

In Congo - Liberia
In Ghana - Nigeria

And in Zimbabwe/Kenya
Where the blood flowed and we the controllers,
Forgot where the stopcocks were.
Freely tin Rwanda – Burundi.
In Sudan and Abyssinia,
The gore inundated; and silent
Skulls once on proud shoulders,
Rolled down the streets.
My brother, I do not preach Revolution.
Neither have I asked you to bring torches,
The smoke from burning citadels
Still fills my eyes and ears,
And the knack-knack, crack-crack of illegitimate
Guns still haunt me.
I urged you on
On and on ............. to topple the statues
Of the Saints
Who out of jealousy, we rechristened.
But the time has passed, yes,
Time has passed.
And now I call you up once more.
Not to hear my Marx ranting
Nor the new gospels from China.
I summon you, my fellow patriots
To a new revolt.

Come; let us all sing a new song,
A song that will shake our nations
A song that will put fear into the hearts
Of the Pretenders,
Come, let us shake their thrones.
Where they sit profaning the
Dreams of the Founding Fathers.
Come, Let us sing a new song.
Of Darfur, Rwanda-Congo, Ethiopia Zimbabwe.
Come, brothers.Come let us sing a song of revolt.